


Ghost Of You

by gambling_with_desire



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Canon Compliant, Grief/Mourning, Kinda, Sad Bellamy, my poor bby just has a lot of feelings, this is really just a headcanon i have that i needed to write down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gambling_with_desire/pseuds/gambling_with_desire
Summary: Death.It was practically synonymous with Earth in his mind now, as it had waged war with his people almost immediately after they’d crash-landed in the dropship, and didn’t let up until it had chased the last of the human race off of the surface. Until it had driven his sister and his people underground, while sending himself and his friends back up to space. Until it had taken his best friend.He thinks of her more often than he’d like to admit, if he’s being honest. But every once, sometimes twice in a while, there is a moment where she comes up in conversation, or he stumbles upon reminders of her around the ship, and everything stops. Just when he starts to believe that he’s finally moving on, golden hair, icy blue eyes, and a smile that used to melt his heart flash in his mind, and he’s punched in the gut with guilt and mourning.(Bellamy mourns Clarke on the Ring.)





	Ghost Of You

**3 Months After Praimfaya:**  
  
  
He’d spent so much time at the window that there was a chair in front of it now.

 

He suspected Harper or Raven or even Murphy had taken pity on him and dragged it over after all the long nights he’d spent standing there, staring mournfully at what used to be Earth. He tried to be discreet about it; he was a leader, after all. Even though he was surrounded by friends constantly reassuring him that it was okay to not be okay, he still felt the need to put on a brave face for them. But they were more observant than he gave them credit for, and as he sunk down onto the cool metal seat and relieved his aching feet, he was so grateful for them.

  
Taking a breath, Bellamy cast his gaze upward towards the source of the red-orange hue that illuminated the small space he occupied. Some days his dark humor would kick in, and he’d sarcastically wonder if the Ark had somehow wandered off course while they were sleeping, as the planet before him now resembled the fires and chaos of Venus more than Earth. He could see the radiation storms, could practically feel the toxic air melting his flesh and taste the acid rain burning his tongue. All of which currently drowned the planet — his home — in death.

  
Death.

  
It was practically synonymous with Earth in his mind now, as it had waged war with his people almost immediately after they’d crash-landed in the dropship, and didn’t let up until it had chased the last of the human race off of the surface. Until it had driven his sister and his people underground, while sending himself and his friends back up to space. Until it had taken his best friend.

 

He thinks of her more often than he’d like to admit, if he’s being honest. But every once, sometimes twice in a while, there is a moment where she comes up in conversation, or he stumbles upon reminders of her around the ship, and everything stops. Just when he starts to believe that he’s finally moving on, golden hair, icy blue eyes, and a smile that used to melt his heart flash in his mind, and he’s punched in the gut with guilt and mourning.

 

The window had become his most frequented spot after the medical wing incident.

 

__________

 

One particularly gloomy night after Bellamy and Raven first fought about the fuel problem, Harper suggested that the whole group have a movie marathon. They’d just discovered a few old ones in the system and were excited to have some entertainment. After his grumbles about wanting to just be left alone were ignored, Bellamy was tasked with finding extra blankets, since the common room always got so cold. He trudged into the medical wing, annoyed, and ducked in and out of a few rooms until coming across a linen closet in what looked like someone’s old office.

 

He found some blankets stuffed in the bottom and yanked them out a little more forcefully than he probably needed to, accidentally pulling a lab coat out from underneath them and sending it onto the floor. Huffing, he tossed the blankets onto the desk and bent down to pick the coat up, when a faded name written on the inside caught his eye. He pulled it closer to his face and staring back at him was a name scrawled out in vaguely familiar handwriting: _C. Griffin._

 

He put the pieces together fairly quickly after that, and realized that he was in what used to be Abby’s office. He knew that Clarke had been a medical intern on the Ark, and evidently Abby must’ve held onto her lab coat after she was thrown in solitary.

 

 _This was Clarke’s,_ he thought to himself with awe.

 

He suddenly felt as if someone was simultaneously stabbing him in the chest and punching him in the stomach, both sensations bringing tears to his wide, disbelieving eyes. Pain and grief overwhelmed him, and feeling his legs nearly give out, he practically fell onto the floor.

 

He’d spent the first few weeks on the Ring wandering around, somehow managing to stumble upon Clarke everywhere he looked. He’d find himself sitting in the library, imagining her pouring over various medical journals with her trademark look of intensity and concentration. One night he’d ventured into the Sky Box out of curiosity, and could practically see her being dragged through the halls to whichever cell belonged to her. He wondered if she’d been scared when she was arrested, having only been sixteen years old at the time, or if the innate strength and stubbornness he loved so much about her had kept her brave as she faced solitary confinement and execution.

 

Now, after spending weeks becoming well-acquainted with her ghost, finding this physical, tangible piece of her life overwhelmed him, filling him with so much emotion he could barely stand it.

 

Bellamy brought the coat up to his face and pressed it against his chapped lips, needing so desperately to feel close to her in any way he could. Pulling his knees up to his chest and backing up against the wall, his eyes began flooding with tears. He realized in that moment that he hadn’t really let himself break down yet. Between getting the ship up and running, doing his best to keep morale up, and worrying about Octavia, he hadn’t taken the time to fully feel or process the weight of his own grief. He had shed plenty of tears, of course. Clarke’s death was a shock to his entire system. But he had to be a leader. He couldn’t wallow in his sadness because his friends needed him, so he always managed to pull himself together. But now, clutching Clarke’s long-forgotten lab coat like a lifeline, he couldn’t stop the dam in his heart from bursting even if he tried.

 

The sheer volume of tears that streamed down his face surprised him, but even then it was no match for the despair he felt in his soul. He felt like a vital part of himself was missing, as if someone had cut off one of his limbs or taken an organ, leaving the wound open and exposed and vulnerable.

 

He thought about his last real conversation with Clarke, and how sure she had been that she would die. He’d refused to even entertain the thought at the time, but in true Clarke fashion, she didn’t let the conversation end until she’d said her piece. He remembered how deeply and wholly she saw him, and how she told him that he could live up to his full potential if he learned to lead with both his head and his heart. Looking back, he realized brokenly that it was her dying wish for him. Sobs wracked Bellamy’s body as he wondered how he could possibly lead with both his head and his heart now, since he’d left his heart on Earth with her.

 

He had no idea how much time he spent crying on the floor in Abby’s office, letting his grief fully consume him, until eventually Raven and Murphy found him. Taking in his broken state, Raven rushed over to him while Murphy hovered in the doorway, clearly uncomfortable, but concerned enough to stay and wait to see what he could do.

 

“Oh my god, Bellamy? What happened?” Raven asked as she crouched down next to him, her voice laced with worry and panic.

 

He didn’t answer, didn’t even know if he _could_ answer, but his white-knuckle grip on Clarke’s lab coat gave him away. Raven tried to pry it from Bellamy’s hands, but after a moment or two she realized that he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. Carefully, she guided his hands closer to her face so she could read the name, and once she did, her lips parted in a silent O, and her sympathetic eyes focused on Bellamy’s red, puffy, completely broken face. She had no words.

 

“What is it?” Murphy inquired, his curiosity clearly getting the better of him as he stepped closer to them and eyed the article of clothing suspiciously.

 

Raven sighed a deep, melancholy sigh.

 

“This was Clarke’s lab coat,” she answered solemnly.

 

Murphy stopped dead in his tracks at this, the news catching him completely off guard. He remained frozen and unblinking for a few moments, and the only sound to be heard in the small room was Bellamy’s quiet sobs. Shaking her head swiftly out of the moment, Raven snapped out of it.

 

“Go back to the common room and tell the others to start the movie without us.”

 

“But—” Murphy started to protest.

 

“Go.” Raven instructed firmly. She gave him a pointed, meaningful look that told him not to fight her on this. With a final sigh and roll of his eyes, Murphy turned on his heel and headed back to the door, sending Bellamy a concerned look over his shoulder as he went. Raven leaned over and grabbed the blankets Bellamy discarded earlier off the desk.

 

“Take these with you,” Raven called after Murphy, barely giving him enough time to turn around before chucking the blankets at him. He caught them right before they smacked him in the face, and he grumbled something about ‘ _all the abuse I have to endure from you’_ as he disappeared down the hallway.

 

Raven rejoined Bellamy on the floor. She pushed some hair out of his eyes that were already filling up with tears again, and then pulled him to her so that his head was resting on her shoulder as he cried. She placed her hand over one of his as his grip loosened just slightly on Clarke’s now very wrinkled coat, and she squeezed just enough to ground him and remind him that she was there.

 

Neither of them spoke for a long time, but he swore he heard some sniffles on Raven’s part. In a weird way, it was almost nice to grieve with her. Besides himself, she was the person on the Ring that was closest with Clarke. He knew that, because of reasons he couldn’t quite bring himself to fully unpack just yet, his own mourning was much different from hers. But still, it was comforting to know that someone else was going through something similar. He’d felt so alone ever since he left Clarke behind, but now, he felt that changing.

 

Some time later, the tears subsided, and he felt at least a little better. The pain was still very much alive in his heart, but letting himself finally feel it and embrace it was incredibly cathartic. Maybe someday it wouldn’t hurt as much.

 

“Come on,” Raven eventually said, patting his leg and motioning for him to get up.

 

He wiped the remaining wetness from his face as he followed her instructions, and his muscles screamed in protest after sitting in the same position for so long. Stretching a bit to wake his body up, he helped Raven onto her feet. With a hesitant look, she wordlessly took the coat from him so she could smooth it out and fold it neatly, only to place it right back in his hands. He cast a look at the linen closet, and just as he went to put the garment back where he found it, he felt a hand on his arm.

 

“Keep it,” Raven said to him. He shook his head.

 

“It’s fine,” he began, his voice thick and raw from all the crying and lack of speaking for so long. “I don’t need it and this is Abby’s office. It should stay here.”

 

“Bellamy,” she protested with an eye roll. “Just take it. Clarke would want you to have it. I think Abby’s office will understand.” She assured him jokingly.

 

He chuckled slightly and nodded. After one last glance around, he let Raven lead him out of Abby’s office. He wasn’t really in the mood to watch a movie or be social, but he also didn’t want anyone to worry about him or think that he was shutting them out.

 

He followed Raven down the hall, and immediately became confused as she headed in the opposite direction of the common room.

 

They stopped walking when they came across a familiar area, and Bellamy realized that Raven had taken him to the same window that they’d found when they first made it onto the Ring. He had avoided looking at Earth since then; it was just too hard to watch the radiation ravage his home, knowing that it had killed Clarke. Really looking at it now, for the first time in months, he still felt that way. He looked away.

 

Before he could ask Raven why they were there, Raven began speaking.

 

“I brought you here because you are clearly in no shape to be social at the moment, and I don’t want to have to search every room on this damn ship to find you again.” She paused for a moment, then turned so she was facing him and continued. “But mostly because it’s obvious that you still have some stuff to work through. I know you’re trying to be the leader we need, and I know you’re doing the absolute best that you can, and I admire the hell out of you for it.” A beat, then: “But I can see how broken you feel every day. We all can. I mean, we’ve been up here for months and I haven’t seen you even look at Earth since the day we got here.”

 

He blinked twice and ducked his head in… shame? Embarrassment? He wasn’t sure.

 

“It’s understandable. You’re going through a lot right now. You’re worrying about your sister in that bunker, and on top of that, you’re dealing with a loss so traumatic you don’t even know how to begin to work through it.”

 

He shrugged.

 

“We all lost people.”

 

Raven scoffed.

 

“Obviously,” she retorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “But you and Clarke… that’s different. You two had a connection I’ve never seen before." She sighed heavily. "I knew and loved Finn practically my entire life, and even before everything fell apart on the ground, we never had what you and Clarke had.”

 

Bellamy furrowed his brows, not fully understanding what she was getting at.

 

“Clarke and I were just… friends.” He concluded. It sounded wrong to even him.

 

“Right, okay.” Raven nodded sarcastically, in a sort of ‘whatever you say’ fashion. “My _point_ is that your relationship with Clarke, however you choose to define it, was big. You understood each other so deeply that it was like you were an extension of her and she was an extension of you. You can’t just lose someone like that so suddenly and _not_ be fucked up for a while.” She turned back to the window to finish her thought. “We all get it. And we want you to heal. But you can’t do that if you spend every waking minute pushing the pain away just because you think it’s what we need.”

 

His eyes searched her profile momentarily as he considered her words. She was right. Losing Clarke had taken an extreme toll on him and if breaking down in Abby’s office was any indication, burying his feelings didn’t help in the slightest.

 

“So,” she said. “for however long it takes, I want you to come to this window, face that ugly, dying planet you’ve been so actively avoiding, and take time to work through your grief. You’re still going to be a productive member of the team, and I want to see you at as many movie nights as possible. At least to get Harper off your back," she joked. His lips twitched into a sort of smile for a moment. "But until you get to a place where you feel okay again, and can actually be the leader that Clarke, and I, and everyone else knows you can be, you need to take a break. Let yourself _feel_. We’ll all be much better off for it.”

 

She stood there for a moment, waiting for any indication that he understood her, and once he gave a small nod, she turned around and vanished down the hallway without another word.

 

He took a deep breath in, and finally took in the sight of Earth in all its glory. He regarded the sickening reddish orange color and the devastating decay of the planet he once shared with his favorite person, and knew in that moment that he would be spending a lot of time at that window.

 

__________

  
There was a familiar tightness in his chest at the thought of her, one that he knew all too well after the months he’d spent on the Ring. He knew he was about to cry, could feel his eyes start to burn as his vision blurred. The tears pooled up, and for a split second, the planet in front of him went out of focus and looked almost peaceful. But then the tears spilled over onto his cheeks and his eyes were once again met with destruction and chaos.  
  
He didn’t know how long he sat crying in that chair before he heard footsteps approaching. He didn’t turn to look, instead he tensed up and lifted the back of his hand up to wipe the wetness away from his face, as if to remove the evidence of his grief.

 

“I just wanted to see if you felt like training today?” Echo asked. Bellamy scoffed quietly, slightly annoyed. _Do I looklike I feel like training right now?_

 

Since arriving on the Ring, each member of the group had developed their own methods for dealing with the grief that they’d felt after losing their respective people. For Raven and Monty, it was throwing themselves into their work; she spent the majority of her time searching for problems to fix on the ship while he dedicated practically every waking moment to growing and developing the algae farm, especially now that the rations were becoming more scarce. Harper became a kind of mother figure, always making sure everyone did their chores and periodically checking up on their emotional states. Murphy and Emori spent a lot of time alone in their room, only emerging to complete chores or to eat with the rest of the group. But they were never apart from each other. Bellamy suspected it was because they both still felt like outsiders, and couldn’t bring themselves to fully trust everyone just yet. Bellamy’s own method of dealing with his grief was sneaking away to this window when everything got to be too much. Lately, it seemed as if that was happening practically every day. Echo decided that her sadness and anger were of better use to her when they could be channeled against an opponent, so she began training anyone and everyone who was willing to learn Grounder combat.

 

Bellamy could think of nothing less desirable than getting his ass kicked in his current state. He didn’t have the energy to fight, physically or otherwise.

 

“I don’t.” He replied, a little harsher than he intended. The air around them suddenly gained an unbearable thickness to it, and he regretted his tone immediately. Sighing, he turned in his chair to face her, taking in the sight of her tense stance and pinched expression. He gave her a small half-smile that was well-intended but had no hope of reaching his eyes, and added “Maybe tomorrow?”

 

She visibly relaxed at his change of tone, and nodded with a relieved but still somewhat guarded smile. Her eyes shifted to the ground and her shoulders started and then stopped turning towards the direction he assumed she came from. He could tell that she was trying to decide whether to stay or go. She turned back to him.

 

“Can I join you?” she asked, finally making a decision. He could hear the hesitation in her voice. It wasn’t new or unfamiliar. There was a civil understanding between them, since he’d saved her life in Becca’s lab and she was slowly proving to be a helpful member of the group. But he and Echo weren’t friends. He still didn’t like or trust her, and she knew that, so she usually kept her distance from him.

 

But also, since returning to the Ark, no one was ever one hundred percent themselves around Bellamy. They functioned efficiently together, and were still able to laugh and enjoy each other’s company. But all of them, even the two new additions to the group, could see that there was a piece of their leader that was missing, that would always be missing. He did his best to adapt, but everyone could see him struggling to heal.

 

He wanted to tell her no, that he didn’t want her to join him. That he would rather be alone, because the only person he wanted to see right now was gone, burned alive from radiation and turned to ash on a hellish planet thousands of miles away. But he knew that she meant well, and so he nodded once in her direction and returned his body to its original position facing the window.

 

A long moment of uncomfortable silence passed before Echo spoke.

 

“She died with honor, you know.”

 

Bellamy closed his eyes at the sudden sharpness in his stomach. This was not a conversation he wanted to have.

 

“She sacrificed herself to save us,” she continued. “She died so that we could live. That’s not something any of us will ever forget, or take for granted.”

 

Bellamy stared wordlessly at the planet below them once again.

 

He missed her so much.

 

Echo chuckled. “Really, it’s no surprise that the only thing strong enough to take down the Great Wanheda was the end of the wo--”

 

“Don’t call her that,” Bellamy spat, whirling around to face her. Echo’s mouth snapped shut. “Don’t _ever_ call her that. That name was born from something terrible that haunted her for the rest of her life. She wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t the _Commander of Death_.” His lips curled in disgust at the taste that the name left on his tongue. “She was just a teenage girl thrown into an impossible situation, who did everything she could for her people time and time again, including sacrificing her own life. So don’t call her that name or talk about her like you know her. You don’t know anything about her.”

 

They were both silent for a long time, his words hanging in the air between them. He watched Echo’s face through furrowed eyebrows and a deep frown that settled into the depths of his muscles. She cast her eyes to the window as she processed his outburst, then to him, then back to the window again, as if she was attempting to understand his connection to it. To Clarke. For a moment, it looked as if she was about to leave. But then her eyes met his again, and she leaned her back against the wall behind her, crossing her arms. She looked more relaxed in that moment than he’d ever seen her. Still guarded, but casual.

 

“Tell me about her then.”

 

He blinked. “What?”

 

She shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t know much about the girl that you and the others love and mourn so much. But I do know that she took off her own helmet and gave it to Emori so that I could keep my suit on. She stayed at that tower to send the signal to the Ring, knowing that she would be left behind to die. She seemed like someone worth knowing. Plus, I owe her my life. I’d like to know more about her.”

 

Bellamy searched Echo’s face for any sign that this was some kind of trap. He didn’t know what motivations she could possibly have to do something like that at this point, and he knew that his paranoia was unnecessary, but he could never be too sure with her.

 

He didn’t really _want_ to talk about her. It may have been a few months, but the wound in his heart was still so fresh. He could barely even listen to other people talk about her without losing it. But he figured he owed it to Clarke to tell as many people as he could about how amazing she was.

 

“She was so…” His eyes searched the wall next to Echo as his brain searched for the right words. Finding the perfect one, he looked at her again. “... _stubborn_. So headstrong,” he started, causing Echo’s brows to raise in surprise, though there was no malice in his tone. In fact, his voice grew more amused as he went on. “She always thought that she was right, even when she was dead wrong. Minding her own business was a foreign concept to her. She was constantly pestering me about my life and whatever problems I was dealing with, and she wouldn’t let up on me, even when I wanted her to just leave me alone. _Especially_ then, actually. I’ve never met a single person that was as annoying or frustrating as she was, and _I_ _raised a teenager_.” He chuckled and Echo smiled faintly along with him.

 

He paused for a moment. His smile faded, but the fondness in it didn’t, as he turned his head back to the window. But this time, instead of focusing on the dead planet, he set his sights to the sky. He often wondered if that’s where she was now, burning bright and beautiful among the stars. He decided that was where she probably belonged.

 

“But she was also selfless and brave. She would’ve done anything for the people that she loved, and as annoying as it was sometimes, she spent every single second from the moment we landed on the ground trying to do what was best for all of us. She challenged me constantly, as a leader, as a brother, and as a friend. She stood up for me and saved my life more than once, even when she didn’t even like me. She made life better. She made _me_ better. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for her.” He stopped to take in a shaky breath as his vision started to blur once again. He was so tired of crying. “She was the greatest person I’ve ever known.”

 

 _And I never even told her_.

 

Tears filled his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He didn’t want anyone to see him truly mourn the way he did privately. It was ironic, he thought, that Clarke had spent so much time breaking down his walls, only for him to start building them up again because of her. Because of how much he missed her, and how deeply alone he felt without her.

 

“That’s what you should know about her," he concluded. “That’s how I’ll always remember her.”

 

“So,” Echo began. “How long have you loved her?”

 

Bellamy didn’t even flinch. He suspected that everyone could see how he felt about Clarke. He realized then that he had never actually said the words out loud before, but he knew he was hardly subtle when it came to his love for her. He was actually surprised it had taken so long for someone to call him out on it.

 

He considered Echo’s question, and thought back to every moment he could remember with Clarke. Every eye roll and screaming match. Every playful “Princess” and its resulting scoff. All the gentle touches and meaningful hugs and wistful “together”s that had filled his heart with a longing he had never known before.

 

Finally, voice breaking and thick with tears, he answered.

 

“Longer than I ever knew.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her nod thoughtfully. She was satisfied with his answer, at least for now. He wondered idly if she ever really cared about listening to him talk about Clarke, or if she only asked because she thought she could help him sort through his feelings and grief.

 

With his eyes now swimming in unshed tears, the stars warped in front of him into sharp streaks across the sky. It was too bright and unpleasant; a jarring sight in comparison to the peaceful assortment of tiny blue and white dots that stood in its place only moments before. The angry dashes obscured his vision of anything else, just like the sorrow he felt for Clarke’s death obscured his life of anything else. Day in and day out, he couldn’t go five minutes without thinking about her. He had never truly lived in peace, but with Clarke by his side, a happy, peaceful life seemed attainable. Now his life was like the sight of the jagged, bleary stars in front of him; a harsh and ugly distortion of what it was before.

 

His mind immediately thought of Clarke as it usually did when his grief took its ever-predictable nasty turn, which consisted of replaying what he assumed were her last moments on a constant loop. A few days after the shock of Praimfaya finally wore off, Raven had told all of them she assumed -- since it took so long for the door to open on the Ring -- that Clarke had to climb to the top of the tower to manually shift the satellite herself until the signal could reach them. The thought devastated him even more, somehow, because to him it meant that she never even had a chance and it was his own fault. He chose to leave with Murphy to grab Monty, forcing Clarke to complete the more dangerous and time-sensitive task alone. She could’ve just as easily helped drag Monty back to the lab while Bellamy stayed behind and sacrificed himself. The realization haunted him for weeks. He didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for letting her go.

 

He could see her so clearly on top of the tower outside Becca’s lab, frantically attempting to send the signal to the Ark before being incinerated by the Death Wave. In his mind, her hands shook, each movement becoming more erratic as time passed. She cursed, frustrated, under her breath as she struggled with the technology that Raven assured her wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out. He could see her checking her watch and letting out a broken sigh as she realized she was out of time, and he watched as she made the impossible choice to stay behind and see her task through to the end. He wondered if she had seen their rocket take off without her. He wondered how heartbroken she must have felt watching her friends leave her behind so they could save themselves, even if it’s what she would’ve wanted. He wondered if she’d ever made it off the tower and headed back towards the lab in a last-ditch effort to survive, or if she’d stood her ground and stared the Death Wave down as it engulfed her in flames. He wondered if her life flashed before her eyes, as people often say it does right before you die. He wondered what her last words were.

 

Most of all he wondered if, in the last moments of her life, she regretted not telling him how she felt, just like he had every second since he closed the rocket’s door.

 

He tried desperately to shove the images away, but his guilt and despair kept them firmly at the forefront of his mind. The tears were flowing freely now, and he made no move to wipe them away. His entire body felt too heavy, and he couldn’t bring himself to move a muscle. Echo took that as her cue, hesitating next to him for a moment as if she might stay and try to make him feel better, then ultimately deciding to leave. He was grateful for that.

  
“I’m so sorry Clarke,” he whispered brokenly to the stars, hoping that she could hear him, wherever she was. “It should’ve been me.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it!!
> 
> (i know it's unlikely that echo knew the extent of bell's feelings for clarke on the ring BUT i just love the idea of it. also i'm pretty sure that they didn't have lab coats up there either but i needed it for The Angst™️ so what can ya do)
> 
> come fangirl with me on tumblr if you wanna @belllamyblakekru :)


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